More Than a Pretty Face
by cleverdistraction
Summary: What exactly did Tony tell his father about Ziva? And when? Tony's take on his relationship with both Ziva and his father. Post-Ep to Flesh & Blood. Established Tiva.


A/N: Post-ep for Flesh & Blood. What we can glean from this fic is that, obviously, I can read Established!Tiva into _anything_. lol. This documents my two concerns about F&B: 1) What did Tony tell his Dad about Ziva and when—he didn't talk to him while on his deathbed in SWAK, but Tony, Sr. knows about Ziva? *is suspicious* 2) wtf is Tony doing going on Spring Break—especially since we haven't heard of him doing this kind of thing since Kate was alive! *is more suspicious* I smell a cover-up!

Enough with my paranoid ramblings!

Disclaimer: Not mine—so completely not mine. Maybe if there were daily episodes with new content + some more Tiva loving, I wouldn't have to resort to this!

**More Than A Pretty Face**

Tony mumbled something about exhaustion and waking up early as he helped Gibbs clean up after their meal. The part he left out was the beautiful---and exceedingly patient--woman waiting for him at home. A part of him recognized that spending the evening with Gibbs was exactly what he needed in order to digest the whirlwind that was his father's visit, but another part of him wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with his arms wrapped around Ziva's slim waist, her curly hair splayed across his chest as a possessive arm wound its way around his torso.

Gibbs gave him a curt nod of understanding and led him to the door, clasping his hand reassuringly on Tony's shoulder as he stepped across the threshold. They said a quick goodnight and Tony ventured out toward his car. Gibbs had suggested that Tony come over for a beer that night and Tony had all but tripped over his own feet following him out of the building that night. He had met Ziva's eye briefly on his way out and she gave him a small smile, contemplating a relaxing night home alone as he raced toward the elevator. If there was one thing that Tony needed tonight, Ziva decided, it was a real father. Gibbs had offered the role and Tony had delighted in accepting.

So, a few moments after the elevator pinged its descent, she made her way to their apartment, already making plans to crack open a bottle of red wine and a new book. She had picked up a great deal of books upon her return, hoping to stave off the loneliness and lingering memories that she worried would settle into her new living arrangements. But before she had the chance to drown her past in a miriad of fiction and academia, she found herself settling into a comfortable relationship with Tony--one that had been derailed far too many times.

Soon enough, he had commandeered a U-Haul and forcibly removed her few boxes and pieces of furniture from the temporary living arrangement she made upon her return. Less than 2 hours later, he had all of her things crowded into his apartment: two coffee tables stacked atop one another in the living room, an extra bed frame and mattress leaning crookedly in the corner, enough lamps to illuminate every inch of the one-bedroom apartment. She had taken care to package her unread books up herself and labeled the box clearly, knowing that Tony would sooner leave them on the bookshelf in her old apartment than bring them along. Somehow, despite her hawkish monitoring of his placement of her things, he had managed to hide the box (he thought her books detracted from her continued movie "education"). She knew immediately that he had _hidden_ the box and that it hadn't simply been misplaced when she saw the cheshire cat grin on his face when he inquired about "those boring books you were gonna read."

She found the box a few weeks later, haphazardly stuffed in the back of the hallway closet and hastily covered with a few bags of unopened table linens. She left it there mostly undisturbed, letting him believe she still had no idea as to its whereabouts, but occasionally pulled a book out to read when he wasn't looking. Tonight was as good a night as any other.

A few hours later, she had finished dinner and was halfway through both a bottle of wine and her book when Tony walked through the door, tossing his keys on the counter while heading straight for the kitchen. Ziva lifted her head in acknowledgment, but returned to her reading as he disappeared from eyesight. He emerged moments later with a glass of water and made his way over to her.

He took in the sight of her for a moment: she was hunched over a suspiciously new-looking book, eyes moving quickly across the page with her mouth slightly agape in amusement. He perched on the arm of the recliner, taking a long drink of water as he rubbed his hand in slow strokes up and down her back as she continued to read.

Suddenly, she pulled a bookmark out from her lap and placed it in between the pages. She stretched out to set her book down on the coffee table in front of them, then settled back into the fluffy cushions as she snuggled her head into his lap, wrapping her arms around his strong thigh. He let out a chuckle at her mock exhaustion; he could see the gears turning in her head.

He moved his hand upward and stroked her hair gently as she smiled shyly up at him. His eyebrows lifted curiously.

"Tony?" she ventured quietly, hesitant to break the comfortable silence between them.

"Yeah?"

"How often do you speak with him?" she asked confidently.

"Gibbs? Everyday, Sweetcheeks," he answered glibly.

"You know that's not who I was referring to, Tony," she admonished, letting out a breathy laugh. Tony set down his glass on the side table behind him, sighing heavily while running a hand through his hair.

"Eh, not that often. It's been awhile," he answered noncommittally. Her fingers began to trace figure-eights into the fabric covering his thigh. She paused for a moment, pursing her lips as she thought about how to continue. Tony began to worry when she stayed silent. "Why, Zi? Did he say something to you about it?"

She lifted her eyes to his, smiling softly once more as her hands stilled. "No," she answered lightly, "He just indicated that you had mentioned me before...and I was under the impression that you two had not spoken since long before I met you. I was just curious, that's all."

"You want to know what I told him, don't you?" He let out a laugh that shook his body lightly as her eyes shone with slight embarrassment and intrigue.

"No, I was just curious...After all these years, the only thing you could think to talk about was me?" she said firmly, challenging him to find a satisfactory answer.

"Well, I'd say you're a pretty big event in my life..." he retorted sweetly. She wrinkled her nose up in disgust at his saccharine words.

She pulled her head from his lap and slowly rose from the chair, accepting that she would not get any more information out of him tonight. She let out a light sigh, stepped toward him, and dragged her hands down his chest. She swept her fingers around his side to flutter along his spine, sending shivers through his body. He leaned forward to kiss her gently, settling his hands on her hips and pulling her into him. She let out a soft moan and leaned back in his arms to look him in the eye.

"Okay, Tony, you do not have to tell me. But I will find out eventually, rest assured."

"Right, Ziva. Just like you found that box of books that I--crap." His eyes went wide as he realized yet again that he was incapable of keeping a secret from her. She smiled mischievously at him, skimming her fingers down his arm until they reached his hand. She pulled him up and started toward the bedroom.

"They always talk. Just you remember that." She turned around, dropping his hand to lift her sweater over her head as she sauntered toward the bedroom. He let out an immediate groan and raced down the hallway after her.

--

As they lay in bed, sweaty and attempting to regain control of their breathing, he placed a series of quick kisses across her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered closed and she snuggled her head deeper into the pillow with a soft moan. He studied her content face as she began to drift off into a sated sleep. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple as he recalled the phone call he had received three months prior.

_"Junior?" _

_"Umm...hi Dad." It may have been a vague handful of years since their last conversation, but Tony would recognize that raspy voice anywhere._

_"How ya doin' there, kid?" he asked jovially._

_"I'm...I'm actually just heading out the door for a pretty important date," he paused, checking the time on his watch. "Did you need something, Dad?"_

_"Oh, no, you know me. Just checking in." _

_'Right,' Tony thought bitterly._

_"Who's the lucky lady? Pretty blonde stewardess? Foxy brunette cocktail waitress? Tell me about her, kiddo." His tone was teasing and too familiar for Tony's liking. He sucked in a breath, not wanting to give his father the satisfaction of a description. Ziva was not just a pretty face to be admired. He wouldn't cheapen her by giving his father the details he was waiting to hear--'she's got a body for days, wavy brown hair, and kissable pink lips.' His father would think she was another proverbial notch waiting to be carved into his bedpost. He checked his watch again quickly before continuing the conversation._

_"No, Dad. She's an agent. She's smart and witty and, for God-knows-what-reason, she loves me. She's not just someone to dispose of after a few weeks. She's more than that."_

_"Anthony--DiNozzos do not get attached to_smart _and _witty_women. The only woman worth getting attached to is one that makes you look good. DiNozzos are lovers of many beautiful women. We don't settle for just one--it's in our nature."_

_"No, Dad," he remarked resentfully, "that's _your_nature. You throw away every woman that's ever walked into your life. I'm not like that anymore."_

_His father let out an exasperated sigh following Tony's little outburst. "Listen, I didn't call to start an argument over some insignificant woman. I called because I want to talk to y--"_

_"She's not insignificant," he interrupted calmly. "She's--she's everything to me and, frankly, if you really want to talk to me, you need to understand that first. I am not you. When you think you've got that down, then you can give me a call..."_

_He started to reply, but was quickly cut off by a dial tone. Tony was sure that he wouldn't hear from his father for at least another few years._

When his father showed up unannounced and unexpectedly at NCIS a few short months later, Tony had barely remembered their conversation. All he could process that his father was flirting with his girlfriend in the middle of his workplace. It all flooded back to him when he overheard his father casually acknowledging to Ziva that they had spoken about her before.

_"Junior mentioned you, but he never told me what you looked like. You are stunning, Ziva."_

_He hadn't seen Ziva look so nervous or blush as deeply as she did when she looked up at Tony's crouched form outside of MTAC. His father, ever the smooth talker, was circling the front of her desk like she was some sort of prey. _

_As he showed his father around the building, Tony warned him in hushed tones to keep his mouth shut about his relationship with Ziva during his visit. By the time the conversation had worked its way back to the banking mess, it was Anthony Senior who brought up their bristly phone call months prior. _

_"So, the bank may have mentioned the reason for your withdrawal..." he started with false bravado, letting the statement's implications hang in the air._

_"What did they mention?" Tony asked sharply, suddenly alarmed. _

_"It seems the youngest Anthony DiNozzo is in the midst of purchasing a ring--of the engagement type. Something you want to tell me about Ziva?"_

_Tony grabbed his father by the sleeve and shushed him as sternly as possible, looking around to make sure no one else had heard his comment._

_"At work, Ziva is my partner, nothing more. Didn't I_just _explain this to you?!" Tony had just passed his threshold of frustration at his father's lack of discretion, huffing loudly as they turned down the corridor that lead to the bullpen._

_"Right, right. This ring business, though--it true?"_

_"Yes," he said in a clipped tone, not sure whether his father was referring to their relationship or to the possible engagement. "But, Ziva thinks it's for a trip with my fraternity brothers, so don't even think about mentioning it to her." _

_Tony took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to stave off the headache he felt brewing. As the turned the corner into the bullpen, he changed the subject to more work-appropriate matters. "Listen, I just want this mix-up at the bank straightened out, alright?"_

By the time his father had left that week, he had become enamored by Ziva--by _her_ and not her beautiful face. And, she, surprisingly, returned at least some of that sentiment. She had convinced him to give his father another chance--had convinced him that, deep down, he had a good heart and wanted to make their relationship work. 'It is more than I can say for my own, Tony, the least you can do is try,' she had prodded him.

Ziva had a way with fathers, he decided. Despite her own, he had never seen Ziva interact with any father who didn't love her immediately. First Jackson Gibbs and now his own…For that matter, Tony thought, even the usually stony-faced Jethro, a wounded father in his own right, had warmed to her almost immediately when she joined the team. She had seemingly found a way into all of their hearts in an exceedingly short amount of time.

But, for that matter, she had done the same to him.

He looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms and felt a slight pang of guilt in knowing that he wouldn't be making any payments toward a ring at any point in the near future as his bank account recovered from his generosity. He wasn't even quite sure whether he would ask her just yet--he just wanted to make sure he had the option readily available when he wanted it. It was still early in their burgeoning relationship, but Tony had decided nearly 6 months ago that, if given the chance, he would never leave her side again--he wouldn't disappear on her like his father had all those years ago.

As he closed his eyes and tried to relax, he realized that his father had finally understood what he was trying to say over the phone three months ago. Through every appraisal he gave her, for the way he hadn't laughed off Tony's intended proposal, and by the way he made an effort to repair their relationship before he got into a cab to leave, he knew that Anthony Senior had accepted that his son was not the man he had long suspected. He had done as Tony had asked and had figured it out for himself: Ziva was more than just a skirt to be chased. She was his partner, his equal, and she had become an especially important part of Tony's life. One that was permanent and irreplaceable.

Tony squeezed his arms around her tightly once more before letting sleep overtake him. As she snuggled deeper into his arms, he knew that she was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. And, for once, everything in his life felt right at that moment.

A/N 2: OMG. A title with more than one word in it! Also, please review! It would make me so happy!!! (And I'd write more…) I have a draft of my thesis due next week and I need some extra confidence! (I can still be conned into writing more due to my great procrastination skills…)


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